Trauma
by BoomChick
Summary: Sephiroth and Cloud have gotten used to the dangers of each other's professions. But somehow, they had never realized that those same dangers applied to Zack Fair. Warnings for violence, torture, PTSD, starvation, and other potential triggers. Peripheral Sephiroth/Cloud and Zack/Aerith but predominantly Friendship!fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story takes place in the same universe as Haunting, Stitches, Sickness, and Drain. However, it is not necessary to read those stories to understand this one! They'll just be referenced here and there. Thanks for reading!

**Warnings: **Torture references, PTSD, violence, some gore, blood, starvation, and other such triggers. Please remember to protect yourselves before all else!

Trauma (n)—_from Greek: A Wound  
><em>_Traum_ (n)—German: _Dream_

**Chapter One**

He had not run so fast in years. Not since the war, when the long distances of Wutai stood before him. Not since a burst of sustained speed was all that stood between him and being obliterated by a fire bomb. Even that had not made his heart race like this sprint did. He raced down to the Third Class training rooms, and slammed the doors open before they could automatically part. The mechanisms cracked and groaned in displeasure at the violence.

"Cloud!" Sephiroth snapped the name, and did not even have the energy to spare to scold himself for being sharp.

Cloud whirled from where he'd been practicing against a punching bag, wearing only in his tank top and uniform pants, the Soldier's belt still gleaming new around his middle. His eyes widened when he saw Sephiroth standing in the doorway, and Sephiroth saw shock in his eyes. He must have looked like a whirlwind incarnate. He didn't care in the slightest.

"They found him." He bit the words out as quickly as he could, then shoved away from the door to start running again. Cloud had been his first stop, and he would make no more.

He heard the shouts of confusion from the other Thirds, but they weren't important. What was important was the sound of a pair of feet following him at a breakneck pace that was hopelessly slow compared to his own, but still as quick as they could be.

Sephiroth reached the stairwell and did not even pause to consider running down them one flight of steps at a time. He vaulted the railing and let gravity drive him downwards with all the speed it could. He landed in a crouch that still strained his knees. Sixty flights of stairs was a long way up.

"Seph." Called Cloud's voice above him, breathless but still easily heard.

Sephiroth lifted his head, and rose, nodding firmly to the blue eyes overhead as a blonde head peered over the stairs. Cloud vaulted after him with a grunt of effort, and plummeted. Sephiroth took one step to the left, and gave a short jump to meet him in the air before landing together and setting him on his feet. Then they were off again, running towards the transport area.

"He's alive?" Cloud gasped out behind him.

"It's bad." Sephiroth forced his panic back, made his legs move slower, forced himself to accept Cloud's sprint as enough speed. "He will live."

"How far out are they?"

"Two hours." Sephiroth said bleakly. "Driving as fast and safely as possible. No helicopter could reach them. They were in the forest."

Cloud, bless him for understanding, didn't ask why they were sprinting towards the transports when there was nothing they could do for another two hours. He didn't even slow down.

Sephiroth slowed to a stop when he came to the vast room that opened out into the transport area of Shinra. He stared out at the closed door to the enormous garage fixedly, and felt every piece of him quivering in tension. Cloud appeared at his shoulder a moment later, one of his hands lifting to grip Sephiroth's elbow. Which of them the grip was to support was unclear.

"he was in enemy hands?" Cloud asked softly, his voice thready. Sephiroth looked over, and found that from the look on Cloud's face he still could not tell how much of the weakness in his voice was from breathlessness.

"Yes." He replied grimly.

"He's been missing for weeks." The strain in Cloud's words was obviously emotional now, and his rosy cheeks had paled, leaving him looking sickly with shock.

"Two weeks, three days, fifteen hours." Sephiroth affirmed, aiming for a note in his voice that would not be too grim. "He was trained to withstand such things, Cloud."

"So was I." Cloud whispered. If anything, his face had grown darker at the reminder. "What the hell took so long?"

"Lack of information." Sephiroth rasped in reply. "Cloud, I did everything I could. And I don't doubt that the Turks did as well."

"I'm not blaming you." Cloud shook his head, squeezing Sephiroth's elbow. "I'm sorry. Did they tell you anything else?"

"That he was wounded, and they were working on healing him."

"Okay. Thanks for coming to get me."

"You'll stay?"

"Try to make me leave." Cloud pressed closer, ducking under Sephiroth's arm to press against his side. "It's been too long since I saw that idiot's face."

Sephiroth looked out towards the closed door, his eyes tightening at the corners with stress. He swallowed slowly, curling his arm around the man he relied upon.

"Please be okay, Zack." Cloud whispered at his side.

Silently, Sephiroth echoed the sentiment

They stood together silently for the first hour. Then the Turks arrived. Sephiroth noticed them the moment they stepped through the door, but if Cloud did, he didn't comment on it. Sephiroth slid his gaze over long enough to catch eyes with Tseng. The man's dark eyes were calm and silent. He shook his head slowly at Sephiroth's inquiring look. No new information.

Cloud shifted, stretched, then settled at Sephiroth's side again. His lips were pulled into a tight frown, and the waiting was obviously wearing on him. He was no better at staying in place and being patient than Sephiroth was. They were made for action. Most Soldiers were.

At least now they knew he was alive. The weeks before hand had been an endless litany of uncertainty—of stress that made them snap at each other, and desperation that drove them back together despite their petty arguments. It was unspeakably lonely with Zack away, in was that Sephiroth had not thought he would miss.

He wondered if Cloud had felt the same void, of if his had been more keenly painful, with the empty apartment he shared with the jovial First where he'd kept having to return to pick up just a few more clothes for one more day with Sephiroth.

It took an hour and forty six minutes. Sephiroth counted. That was remarkably good time for a trip as far as the coordinates he'd been given. When he spied the redheaded Turk behind the steering wheel he knew exactly why. Zack was bewilderingly popular with the Turks. Without their work, Sephiroth was unsure the young First would have been found at all.

At his side, Cloud stiffened a moment, frozen stock still before jolting forward. Sephiroth stopped him with a careful hand to his chest, holding him in place.

"Let the medics go first." He murmured. "We follow them. His safety takes precedence."

"Right." Cloud whispered in a voice that was painfully rough.

Sephiroth watched the transport doors open—Watched them maneuver out the stretcher. His heart sank as he realized part of him had been waiting—hoping—For a burst of laughter from the inert form on the stretcher.

Zack did not laugh. He did not move. From a distance, it was hard to catalogue his injuries. Sephiroth tried to pretend that the discoloration on his skin was just from grime. He tried to mentally explain away the dark circles around Zack's closed eyes and the taut paper-thin skin cracked over his lips. He tried not to notice the sickly glow about him that spoke of a body burning too much mako to compensate for exhaustion—starvation—brutality.

"Zack…" Cloud whispered beside him, trailing off into silence.

"He is resilient." Sephiroth spoke the words with a comforting intent, but they were as much for himself as for Cloud.

They followed the medics, and Tseng drifted behind them, pausing only long enough for Reno to fall into step just behind him. The Turks shadowed them in silence, and something about the quiet was deeply, horribly unnerving. Reno had been Sephiroth's company-required escort more than once. The redhead had never once been silent.

Medical was prepared. Cloud and Sephiroth followed only so far as the entryway, then they were stuck again, watching him be wheeled through. This time, at least, they had one thing to do. Sephiroth turned towards the Turks only a beat before Cloud did.

"You found him?" He asked, sharper than he'd meant to. Cloud's arm tightened around his waist in warning, and he bit the inside of his own cheek in rebuke.

Reno was fidgeting. It was a strange look on him. His blue eyes were hunted, wired. He glanced around the waiting room as though the sweep of his gaze would uncover a thousand traps and dangers.

"Yeah, yo." He muttered after a moment, fingers twitching as he forced them down to his sides. "Fucked up scene."

Tseng didn't argue the impromptu interrogation, but Sephiroth did take note that he slid a recorder out of his pocket and flicked it on silently.

"Where was he?" Cloud asked. Sephiroth was glad to be overridden. He knew the right answers to ask for a deposition. Not the right ones to ask for a friend. "Is he okay?"

"'Okay' is a really broad concept." Reno choked out with a laugh. "Really, really broad, yo. From Turk standards? He's okay. He's breathing, and it's not because someone's making him, so for that form of 'okay' yeah. He's okay."

"Reno." Tseng's voice was low and unusually gentle. It reminded Sephiroth of the quiet mutters he'd heard that the head Turk was soft on the redhead in ways that had nothing to do with professionality and everything to do with paternal instinct.

"I know." Reno's voice was biting as he replied, and his lips pulled back in frustration for a moment before he schooled his expression once more. "I know."

Cloud caught a breath at Sephiroth's side, and the General looked down in time to watch the younger man scrub his free hand roughly over his face, rejecting what must have been tears in his eyes. He forced his body to respond correctly, and gave Cloud a small squeeze, though in truth he felt nearly nothing himself. It was as though he had been hollowed out from inside.

"Calmly." Tseng instructed. "From the beginning."

"Found a signal yesterday," Reno rasped. "Or Rude did. Some shortwave radio in the middle of nowhere. They didn't remember to tune it down at night. Radio waves carry further at night, y'know?"

Sephiroth did know. He managed to remind himself that he knew what rhetorical questions were before he answered needlessly.

"They were talking about a captive, and some video they were planning. Propaganda bullshit, yo. Partner and I figured we'd check it out," The Turk's hands started to shake as he spoke, and he shoved them into his pockets. "No harm in trying. We hadn't found him anywhere else, and it was the closest lead we'd had. Glad we brought the medical equipment…"

"He was there." Sephiroth filled in.

"Oh yeah." Reno choked. "With twenty five Wutaian resistance fighters. Only about three of them were actually even Wutaian. The rest were just these dumbass Midgar revolutionaries, those absolute fucking—"

His rage built with every word, until Tseng reached out. A gentle touch of his hand to Reno's sleeve sent the younger of the suited men into silence. Sephiroth watched in dim recognition as the redhead put mental walls in place. They slid down like a store shuttering, his open fury morphing smoothly into a calm, smirking confidence. Cloud twitched at Sephiroth's side, but he didn't object to the wry, ugly smile twitching Reno's thin lips. Sephiroth wondered if he recognized the effect from being with him for so long.

"We didn't stick around to ask them what they wanted." Reno's voice had turned into a slow, calm drawl as soon as he'd put up the walls. There was something that Sephiroth found far more unsettling about hearing him speak calmly over this, but he wanted information more than comfort. "Killed 'em all. Most of 'em quickly. Damn shame, that."

"And Zack?" Cloud prompted.

"Caged." Reno replied. "Awake. Starved, beaten, and trussed up tight enough I doubt even our Sephiroth could have gotten free. I'll spare you the details. You'll find them out soon enough."

"He was awake?" Sephiroth asked softly. "Did he say anything?"

"Once I got him loose and cut the gag off him?" Reno asked, his eyes slanting up to Sephiroth. "Tell you the truth, I couldn't make out many words. He was screamin' plenty, though."

"Oh gods." Cloud whispered, sounding sick.

Sephiroth held him a little closer. Reno's eyes flickered, and his cold expression faltered. Sephiroth knew the feeling—wanting to put aside the mask and be genuine, and knowing that to do so would be to lose control. The urge seemed to vanish when heavy footsteps joined them.

Rude walked into the room, a towel working between his steady fingers. Reno gravitated to him like elements binding, but did not fall against him or lean into his arms. He just went to his side and stayed there as Rude worked cracked brown blood off of his fingers.

"We should sit." Sephiroth said after a moment, his voice low. He didn't know why he bothered involving Tseng in the gesture, but his eyes flicked to the man as well as Cloud when he spoke.

The Turk shook his head, even as Rude did.

"Full debriefing." He explained shortly. "General, I know I don't have to tell you. He should not be alone."

"He won't be." Sephiroth swore, his voice so vehement that Cloud gave a little startle at his side.

Tseng nodded. "We will do our best to ensure you are prepared."

Sephiroth tipped his head to acknowledge the words, moving towards the seating area to settle and wait.

"Look." Reno blurted, taking a half step forward. Cloud paused before Sephiroth and turned back to the obviously distraught Turk. "If he needs anything, you call us in. And screw the rivalry."

"You got it. Thanks for bringing him home." Cloud replied quietly. "We owe you."

They were left alone once the Turks departed. Sephiroth sank stiffly into a seat, fighting to keep his tense muscles relaxed enough not to harm either Cloud or the waiting room. At his side, the Third-Class managed to sit still all of three minutes before he was antsy and fidgeting.

"You're alright." Sephiroth murmured, keeping his voice quiet enough that not a single nurse so much as glanced over.

"Nothing's alright." Cloud countered softly. "It's never been him hurt before, Seph. He keeps an eye on us, and he's helped me so many times, but he's never been the one who needed backup."

"He has needed us before." Sephiroth argued with a quiet shake of his head. "And you have always been there for him."

"You have too." Cloud muttered, shoving Sephiroth with his shoulder. Sephiroth wanted to argue, but he could not bring himself to disappoint the young man with reminders of the strained stiffness between himself and Zack following Angeal's death.

"We may not be the perfect people to help him," Sephiroth admitted after a long moment, "But we are his friends. He chose us to be so. Surely that means he knows we can be relied on."

"I've never had to before, you know?" Cloud whispered. "I've never been the person anyone turned to for backup."

"I know a certain mouse and a certain General who would disagree." Sephiroth murmured, his voice low and his eyes averted.

"It's different with you." Cloud whispered, his hands twining together in his lap anxiously. "You would still be fine without me. Just less happy. Zack might really be in trouble."

Sephiroth didn't push the point, even as he shook his head silently at the sentiment. He would not have been fine without Cloud. Not even close. But now was not the time to discuss his pain.

"I will support you and him both as best I can." He swore instead. "I will be there to help you when it is overwhelming, and to keep him company when you need time."

"It might not be that bad, right?" Cloud whispered. "I mean, he's Zack. Nothing gets him down too long."

"That's true." Sephiroth whispered. He didn't say that he thought it would be different this time. They'd spent the last two and a half weeks hoping for the best. They could spend a little longer hoping before reality caught up to them.

Fifteen minutes of silence passed, then Cloud pushed away from him all at once, rising to his feet and starting to pace.

"What if he's not okay?" He asked softly.

"He has friends to help him." Sephiroth replied quietly. "That Second he likes, Kunsel, should be back from his mission within a few days. And he has the flower girl as well."

"Aerith." Cloud corrected, more sharply than usual.

"Aerith." Sephiroth parroted, trying to stay calm and not get riled by the tension roiling through Cloud. "She was there for him when he lost Angeal. I am certain she will be with him now as well."

"What if we aren't enough?" Cloud snapped. "What if he's not him anymore?"

"I don't know what you want me to tell you." Sephiroth said bleakly. "I hope that he will be himself, or that he will come back to himself quickly. But I know no more than you do."

"No, I guess you wouldn't." Cloud snapped coldly. "You hardly know how to handle people when they AREN'T close to breaking."

Sephiroth went still and silent. He lowered his eyes slowly, letting out a quiet breath and tipping his head forward. The sound of pacing stopped abruptly, and Cloud approached him in two swift steps.

"I didn't mean that." He whispered, one hand lifting to touch Sephiroth's shoulder gently.

"I know." Sephiroth heard his voice come out too flat, and tried to fix it. He couldn't seem to get any inflection into his words. "You are anxious. I am as well. And you are not incorrect."

"I am." Cloud whispered. "I am. You're great with him, Seph. You work so hard, and you really are."

Sephiroth did not reply, but he did let Cloud draw him forward into an awkward hug. The blond smelled like dried sweat from his earlier workout, but Sephiroth didn't mind. It was grounding, in a way.

"Sorry." Cloud's voice was quiet in his hair.

"It's fine." Sephiroth shook his head quietly, pulling slowly away from the touch. "It has been a stressful couple of weeks."

Internally, he'd feared the same. He could offer Cloud all the support in the world, but that did not mean he would be right in that support. It did not mean his words or his gestures or his knowledge would be of any use. He knew, by the books, every number of things that could happen to Zack in the aftermath of what he'd gone through. He knew the names and practices of a thousand ways to help. Whether he could ever put them into practice was another matter entirely.

Slowly, Cloud forced himself to sit at Sephiroth's side again, but his leg was jumping now with anxiety he could not force back, and Sephiroth no longer found himself able to offer Cloud comfort. It took him a long time to breathe through the well of panic inside himself to place a hand in the center of Cloud's back. He rubbed the tense muscles there in quiet support.

"The most important thing," he whispered after a moment, "is to be united for him."

"Right." Cloud whispered. "I won't snap. I promise."

"And I will do my best to be," Sephiroth searched for the right word a moment. "Emotionally available."

A nurse stopped by with coffees for them not long later. He gave them a quiet, worried smile, but no new information. Cloud accepted his coffee without word, and Sephiroth followed suit.

It was another hour before the doctor exited. She was sweaty, her hair sticking wildly out of her tight bun from where she'd worn a cap moments before. Sephiroth could still see the line of red skin around her forehead left by its pressure.

"I'm guessing you're here for Fair." She said, glancing between the two of them.

"Is he alright?" Cloud stood eagerly form under Sephiroth's arm.

Sephiroth stayed seated. The doctor looked exhausted, and he had a bad habit of intimidating people by moving too quickly or standing too close. Sometimes even by breathing too loud. He kept himself carefully at a mental distance, observing the way she seemed to soften when faced with Cloud's worry.

"He's stable." She said in reply. "And resting comfortably for now. Though knowing you Soldier types that could change at any moment."

"If he wakes disoriented, you may want to have us back there." Sephiroth cautioned after a moment, his voice low and steady. "Even weakened, he is still a First."

"You have basically summarized what I came out here for, sir." She said briskly. "He's not ready to go anywhere, but having eyes on him from someone who stands a chance in hell of restraining him if he's not entirely himself—"

"Understood." Sephiroth said quietly, fighting back his disappointment that his friend was not exactly going to be welcomed home with a hug at once.

"May we see him then?" Cloud asked, a mixture of fear and eagerness in his voice, the emotions tumbling together in a way that made Sephiroth's voice seem all the more flat and empty in comparison.

They were lead to a room where the doctor had them scrub their hands and faces. Sephiroth put up his hair, and forced back the pieces of him that shied away from medical equipment and the smell of sterility. Another wall slid shut between his emotions and his behavior, and he hoped that allowing it to fall closed would not be damaging for Cloud. The blond didn't even seem to notice, and Sephiroth was glad for it. The last thing he wanted was to take Cloud's attention and worry for himself. It should all be focused on their friend.

He never would have made it into the room with Zack without that wall in place. He needed the mental distance just to cross the threshold. The smell of alcoholic sterility so strong that it filled his nose and mouth both. The steady beeps and whirs of the bedside machines measuring his vitals. Sephiroth let Cloud approach to the bedside first, hanging back to study the readouts.

Steady brain function, in proper wave format. He was asleep still, and did not appear currently distressed. His pulse was too fast. Sephiroth knew Zack well, from his cheesy grin to his distinctive scent to his resting pulse of roughly 72 beats per minute. The thready heartbeat hammering at a resting 98 was a grim indication of what they would find.

He allowed his eyes to slide down onto Zack's face, but found them skirting over the reality of him to follow the line of the oxygen mask over his face, checking for twists in the cord that would leave discomfort on his cheeks. He glanced to the pulse monitor over his finger, and the IV line in the elbow of his other arm. There was a bandage over his hand, and another on his wrist from failed IV attempts. It spoke of probable dehydration. He started to move over to check what IV drip he was on when Cloud made a quiet sound of distress that stilled him.

"Oh Zack." The other man whispered, his voice choked with tears. "What did they do to you?"

Sephiroth could not distance himself from that. Not from the raw pain in Cloud's voice. He looked over to watch the man he cared for so deeply for a moment, then forced himself to look at his best friend's face.

Zack looked worse than some corpses he had seen. It was the first thought that entered his head, and it was almost a violent enough mental image to send him into a screaming collapse of his own. He forced his eyes to the monitors again, watching the heartbeat, listening to the rasp of Zack's breath under the oxygen mask, glancing to the brainwaves.

Not a corpse, he reminded himself firmly. And he was not going to be one.

He took a step forward. He felt a flash of gratitude when he saw that Zack's chapped, bloody lips had been tended, something like vaseline glistening on their surface to help them heal and keep them from splitting worse. What he'd hoped was filthiness were mottled bruises, marking Zack's face heavily on one side, leaving his cheek and temple and jaw dark purple and swollen, dissipating into yellow-green bruises over his left eye. His right was blackened of its own accord.

The injuries were bad. The tightness of his skin, and the unhealthy pallor of his usually tan and smiling face were worse. His cheeks were hollow, his brows seeming deeper with his sunken eyes. Sephiroth could pick up the faint glow of mako under his skin still, and his irises shone under his eyelids every now and then in a flicker of the stuff.

"Seph," Cloud whispered, as though seeking reassurance. "Seph, he's glowing."

"It happens." Sephiroth murmured gently. "You've seen it happen to me. When I overdosed on Mako. He's been starved. His body's been burning it for fuel. It is already starting to fade with the intravenous fluids."

"You're closing off on me." Cloud whispered.

"We are in a medical suite, and I am doing my best." Sephiroth kept his voice level, and forced his words to be truthful instead of denying the reality of Cloud's assessment. The other man did not complain again.

"Zack." Cloud whispered instead after a moment, perching gently on the chair beside the bed. "We're here for you, buddy."

Sephiroth watched Zack's chest rise and fall. He knew enough about personal privacy not to pull down the blankets and check on the rest of him. But with only his face telling such a story, he desperately wanted to know what the rest of Zack had been through. But thank the gods, this was not an autopsy, and he would not do as he pleased. Not without Zack's permission. Even if he never gave it.

"He looks bad." Cloud sounded distant.

"Yes." Sephiroth agreed. "But his vital readings are stable."

"Reno said—"

"Reno was highly emotional." Sephiroth said briskly, interrupting the thought before it could be fully formed.

"That makes it worse." Cloud glared at Sephiroth in retaliation. "He's a Turk. They aren't supposed to get emotional."

Sephiroth felt his emotions walling off, and tried to find the balance between distant enough to function and affectionate enough not to wound. "He is here now."

"What are we supposed to do?" Cloud whispered.

"We wait." Sephiroth replied with a bleak honesty that he knew was wrong. He shook his head instantly afterwards. "I'm sorry, that came out badly."

Cloud cast him a brief glance, his blue eyes brimming with tears, but not as angry as Sephiroth had feared.

"I know." He whispered. "Just… Do you think the nurses will tell us what all is wrong with him?"

"It is against procedure." Sephiroth said blandly. "As are we, technically."

"So how are we supposed to help? Cloud whispered.

"If we are lucky, he will tell us what he needs." Sephiroth felt his voice dimming, and tried to make it firmer. Was he making the right expression for this conversation? He was fairly certain he wasn't. He was probably empty-faced again. He hoped Cloud would forgive him that.

The room fell silent, and Sephiroth went back to studying the monitors. He knew what they would say, but it was better. It was better than looking at Cloud, and at the intravenous line that he knew would be aching when Zack awakened, and at the frail-looking man who he had only ever known to be hearty and vibrant.

"Oh gods." Cloud whispered into the silence. "His fingers…"

"How bad?" Sephiroth asked blankly, not daring to look.

"Not broken, I don't think." Cloud whispered. "But he doesn't… He doesn't have any fingernails, and…"

Sephiroth forced himself to take a breath, then slowly turned, walking to Cloud's side. He looked down at Zack's pale, blood-stained hand. At the raw skin of his fingertips. He placed a hand slowly on Cloud's back in silent support. He could offer no more than that. He choked back the scream of anger burning in his throat, and said nothing.

Cloud reached out after a long while, stronger than Sephiroth was in so many ways. His palm rested slowly over Zack's hand, the contact distanced by the gloves Cloud wore to protect their friend from infection.

"We're here, buddy." He rasped after a moment, in a voice that was as raw as Sephiroth's heart felt. "You're safe."

Sephiroth made it an hour before he the itch in his back became too much to bear. He glanced to Cloud's strained eyes, and felt the request to escape die on his tongue. He swallowed hard, bit back on the rising discomfort, and shifted on his feet, still rubbing small, obsessive circles into Cloud's spine.

It was hours before Zack twitched. The sign of life drew a slow sigh from Cloud, and even Sephiroth closed his eyes in relief. Then Zack sucked in a sharp breath under the oxygen mask, and his eyes flickered, still closed for the most part, but mako shining in panic.

"Enough." He rasped in a voice that was not their friend's—so far from the lively first's voice that Sephiroth thought for a moment that it was someone else—that they had been mistaken all this time.

"Zack," Cloud objected swiftly, eyes widening in horror from where they'd softened in relief. "Zack, you're home."

"He's not awake, Cloud." Sephiroth felt how flat his voice was, and every word he spoke with a sickness twisting in his chest.

"Please." Zack sobbed, twisting in the hospital bed. The whites of his eyes shone through fluttering eyelids, his gaze rolling and unaware. "No more."

The heart monitor was racing. Sephiroth pressed a finger to the nurse call button, and drew Cloud away from their panicked, dreaming friend. Cloud struggled in his hold, as involved in Zack's pain as Sephiroth was distant. Sephiroth held him steady until the doctor had appeared, sliding a new needle into the already-hooked IV port. Zack wasn't even strong enough for her to need Sephiroth's help with it.

The First gasped a few more times, breathing like a landed fish. Then he slumped back to the bed, his heart rate finally starting to even out once more. Sephiroth released Cloud with numb hands.

"Twilight sedation?" He asked the doctor, his voice sounding as empty as the VR room computers.

"Just until i'm sure he won't tear himself up when he moves." The woman carefully placed the needle's cap back on, then dropped it into the biohazard containment unit. "It's safe, I promise."

"I know." Sephiroth replied.

"It's bad, isn't it." Cloud whispered, interrupting the calm reality of their conversation with a burst of raw emotion that left Sephiroth feeling weak in the knees somehow. "He's really hurt badly."

"He'll heal fast." The doctor replied after a moment. "Too fast, for all intents and purposes, I think."

"What do you mean?" Cloud demanded.

"She means that Soldiers heal too quickly." Sephiroth sighed, closing his eyes lightly to block out at least one of the too-many stimuli around him. "Our bodies heal before our brains can comprehend the injury fully."

"It's still being researched." the woman sighed. "But Soldiers are more likely to experience psychological breakdowns after injury or physical stress than any trooper."

"He's stronger than anyone." Cloud objected. "I've never seen anything get him down."

"I hope you're right." The woman said softly.

It wasn't until she left again, her head bowed and exhaustion in every line of her that Sephiroth spoke up.

"Cloud." He said softly, trying his best to make his voice gentle. "Don't hold on to that too much."

"It's true." Cloud whispered, shaking his head quietly. His eyes gleamed with tears.

"It is true he does not show his pain readily." Sephiroth agreed after a moment. "That does not mean he is unharmed. After all you would once have said the same thing about me, would you not have?"

"It's different." Cloud whispered, and there was a note like pleading in his voice.

"Not so different as I would like." Sephiroth whispered. "He did not show his pain after Angeal's death either. But it was still there."

"Seph—"

"But it will be different this time." Sephiroth whispered, feeling his voice grow startlingly sharper and clearer. "I will not close my eyes to his pain. Not again."

Cloud met his eyes, and the strain between them, for a moment, was choking. Then Cloud gave a slow nod.

"I know you won't." He admitted. "I know we'll help him."

The words rang hollow over the rush of oxygen and the beating of a wounded man's heart. In the silence that followed, the memory of Zack's words was impossible to block out.

'_Please.' _Sephiroth's brain repeated, turning the words over and over obsessively in his mind. '_Enough.'_

'_No more. No more. No more.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sephiroth was not there the next time Zack woke up.

It was a simple idea, to stay by a bedside. It was harder in reality. He had an army to lead. He made it down to medical as often as he could, despite the stress headache it gave him. Zack had started to look more like himself after the first fifteen hours of fluids, but the slightly-less-ghostly pallor was far from the miracle that part of Sephiroth had been hoping for since he first laid eyes on his friend.

Cloud took the brunt of the strain, and Sephiroth knew it. While he had to attend to his duties, Cloud stayed by Zack's side—wiped the senseless, unconscious tears off his face, and the drool from the corner of his lips while he slept on and on endlessly. Sephiroth's appearances, when he could manage them, led to Cloud vanishing. It had become an unspoken rule within moments of Sephiroth's first arrival after a spell of work.

Cloud needed rest and privacy and time to eat and drink. So they did their best to spread out the exhaustion. Sephiroth worked during the day, taking over for Cloud during his brief lunch break. It was long enough for the man he loved to relieve himself without fear of leaving Zack alone. Then he'd go back to the lonely routine of meetings and paperwork and training.

When he was done at last he no longer went home to his apartment to a blond Soldier smiling and waiting for him. Instead he walked back to the near-silent medical wing. Cloud was always still waiting for him, of course, but it was with a strained, tired look. Usually they exchanged at least a brief touch, but they did not kiss or cling to one another. Neither of them seemed to have the energy for such affection.

The medical staff kept Zack at a low-level sedation for a long time. Infections had to be pinned down before his recovery could fully start, and the Soldier's mental damage would further wound his body, they said. Sephiroth wasn't sure he believed them, but he patiently sat by the bedside of his best friend through the long nights, and only dozed off now and then. He stole the same kind of sleep he had during the war—short, stiff bouts of rest that would be enough to keep him going, but not for long.

Zack's room was filling up with flowers and get-well gifts. Sephiroth watched the nurses bring them, and did not bother checking the names. He only inspected each one for signs of danger or poison or bombs, then placed them aside. He made sure to put them all somewhere Zack would see them when he woke. Flowers meant little to Sephiroth, but he knew they would mean something to his friend.

He and Cloud barely spoke. After months of living and breathing each other, it felt to Sephiroth like a particularly cruel sensory deprivation—as though everything that brought him joy had been stripped away. He'd been so used to allowing himself to live that vibrant sort of life. Going back to the grim routine of waiting, alone and sleepless, was painful. But he did not complain, and he never would. One look at Zack's pale face, or the small beginnings of new fingernails growing from ruined flesh was enough to kill any self-pity Sephiroth might have felt.

The nurses had maintained Zack's medical privacy well, but Sephiroth had caught glimpses here and there. He and Cloud had started swapping a notebook on the second day, leaving each other little notes about his condition. A mention of the harsh scar Cloud had seen on Zack's ankle when he shifted out from under the blankets in his sleep. A note on the mottled bruises coiling over his collar bone that Sephiroth had noticed two nights ago. The nurse's hiss of sympathy from behind the closed door when Sephiroth had to wait outside for her to bathe his friend.

It was not pleasant reading, but it felt necessary. They knew so little. It was Zack's story to tell or to keep secret, but Sephiroth felt he had to know something of what to expect. Cloud, it appeared, felt the same.

By the third day, it had become routine. Sephiroth signed paperwork on autopilot, his mind filled with the books he'd been reading about helping someone recover from torture, about what a starvation victim ought to eat, about how to respond appropriately when a horrific detail was revealed. He memorized all of it, but could not see himself following the advice. He would try, but he had never been skilled at emotional things. He'd left them for Cloud to read, and had noticed the blond's distinctive multi-colored bookmarks appearing throughout them as he located important passages.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the screaming and flames and fire that always followed the silence in war. He was prepared to watch his world fall apart, and prepared to hold on through it in a desperate attempt to keep the people he cared for alive.

And yet, despite his knowing that the fall was coming, when his phone buzzed on the fourth day since Zack came home it felt like the world lurched under him. He wasn't ready for the text message that lit up his phone—wasn't ready to see Cloud messaging him. Anxiety tightened his chest as he waited for the message to load, his fingers tight enough on the phone that he had to force himself to back off before he shattered the re-enforced machine.

"Hes up& talking!" the message proclaimed.

Despite the emotional impact of the words, Sephiroth's mind stuck on the shorthand and punctuation errors, his left eye twitching in distaste. Then his grip on the phone went suddenly lax, and it fell from his fingers to the desk. He stared at the wall opposite him.

Zack was awake. Cloud hadn't called him in hysterics, but had instead sent a text. That ended with an exclamation mark. That usually indicated excitement, in Sephiroth's experience. Excitement meant… Maybe that miracle he'd been hoping for wasn't so far-fetched after all.

He glanced at the stack of paperwork, then at his scheduled meeting. Then he forced his hands to function again, picking up his fallen phone and sending a text to Heidegger's number.

'Soldier business. Meeting postponed.'

He locked the office door behind him with a quick scan of his thumbprint, then nodded to the secretary who doubled as a gatekeeper to his office sanctum. She didn't question why he was sweeping out of his office halfway through the work day. That was part of why she'd kept her job so long.

He couldn't decide what he ought to feel as he walked swiftly down to medical. He kept his hardest mask in place as he stormed past the denizens of Shinra. He would entertain no distractions. He was trying to chose between excitement and fear and guilt—Guilt not just from allowing this to happen to Zack, but from not feeling the way he ought to automatically. It had never come easy to him. He wished now more than ever that his mind was more together—more human.

The woman at the front desk of medical looked up at him with a smile when he walked through the door. Every day before, she'd given him a pitying look. He catalogued the crinkled skin at the corner of her eyes, and the eagerness in the tilt of her lips. He strode past her without waiting to exchange words, moving quickly towards the back, doing his best not to stalk. It did not feel like the sort of place one should stalk.

He heard Zack before he saw him.

"Who brought the roses?"

He stopped in the hallway, rocking forward on the balls of his feet, but not moving. He tilted his head, sifting through the sound of Zack's voice. Dry, yes. Rasping and weak. Muffled as though he were talking from under the oxygen mask. But none of the strain Sephiroth had expected to hear. None of the raw desperation that there had been in his desperate pleas.

'_Enough enough enough'_

"Um, the card says Reno." Cloud's voice was a warm reply, filled with affection and relief. "But it looks like someone else's name used to be on it. I think he's just taking credit for all the ones he thought were good."

"Aw, he cares." Zack replied, tapering off into a laugh that devolved too quickly into coughs and wheezes that still managed to sound amused.

"Zack, you promised you wouldn't laugh too much." Cloud's voice complained with honest worry behind the teasing.

"Can't help it." Another rough cough that could have been a chuckle. "It's too damn funny."

Sephiroth forced himself forward, moving stiffly to the doorway, until he could see Zack's face—The wry grin under the oxygen mask, the eyes still hazed with sleep, teary from coughing. The color high in his cheeks from the breathless wheezes of laughter.

"I'm not telling you any more until you start breathing properly again." Cloud declared, stepping into Sephiroth's view and sitting lightly on Zack's bedside, his arms crossed firmly.

"Define 'normal,' Spikey." Zack insisted breathlessly, even as he sank back into the bed, eyes gazing up at the ceiling, a rakish grin still fixed on his lips. "Go on. I'd love to hear _you_ try."

"I'll just wait until you're not as red as if you'd been boiled, then." Cloud responded rather sharply, and a part of Sephiroth flinched. His mind panicked, scrambled, because what if that set Zack on a flashback, what if it was the wrong thing to say, what if—

Laughter again, or as close as the Soldier could come. His eyes crinkled, and he wheezed amiably. Cloud's hand fluttered down from where he'd previously crossed it, resting over Zack's chest as though urging the rattling there to vanish.

Sephiroth felt frozen. It wasn't what he'd prepared for. It wasn't the wide eyes and shaking hands that plagued Cloud after trauma, or the violent ferocity of Genesis's pain. It wasn't the blatant refusal to acknowledge his injury that Angeal would have stubbornly displayed. It wasn't even his own stony silence. Zack grinned and played with Cloud as though this were a minor setback. As though he would be swinging out off bed and doing squats if his legs would hold him. He probably would be.

He didn't know how to fit into this easy repartee that Zack and Cloud seemed to have developed already. He didn't know how to smile at the wan, weak version of Zack Fair. He didn't know how to give the gentle comfort of Cloud's hand while still letting that teasing air live between him and his friend. He shifted, wanting to go to Zack, and not wanting to make it worse. He took things too seriously for the First's taste, he knew. Would this fall into that category as well? Was he meant to make light of it? Was he supposed to join the playful atmosphere?

Then Zack's weary eyes flickered to him, and Sephiroth found that he couldn't resist the way his friend's face brightened at the sight of him. He stepped into the room, ducking his head as though to avoid something. He only held eye contact for a moment before glancing to the monitors, clearing his throat as he waited to be given his lead-in cue.

"Well, doc?" Zack's voice was as colored with pain as it was with laughter. "Will I play the violin again?"

"Did you play the violin before?" Sephiroth asked, keeping his voice low, gauging the reaction carefully, watching the heartbeats spiking on the screen for any change.

"Not even close." Zack's chuckle sounded ragged.

"Then I highly doubt this has improved your aptitude." Sephiroth hazarded after a moment, turning to face Zack properly.

The sunny, approving grin that he received was somewhat dampened by the split that opened in Zack's lip from smiling too much. A bead of blood welled from the cracked skin.

"Pity." Zack commented, even as he accepted the tissue Cloud offered with a hand that was only shaking a little, lifting the oxygen mask off his face to dab at the bloody mark.

"Welcome home." Sephiroth offered quietly instead of playing any further into the game.

Zack paused, swallowed, then smiled a smaller, softer smile, his eyes closing lightly and a low hum catching in his throat.

"Good to be back."

"You sound like you're going to sandpaper your throat to death." Cloud scolded fondly, pressing a cup into Zack's hand when he took the bloodied tissue back. "Chew on some ice and give Sephiroth a minute to fret over you."

"Seph doesn't fret for anyone but you." Zack teased roughly, even as he wiggled stiffly back on the bed to prop himself up on the pillows, tipping some of the ice shavings into his mouth and crunching on them, the oxygen mask around his neck still rushing softly.

"You didn't see him the past few days." Cloud replied, looking more alive than he had since Zack arrived pale and bruised. The dark circles under his eyes were hard to notice in the light of the smile on his face, and the relief that colored his entire being. "Fretting over you like a doting ghost."

Sephiroth grunted in disapproval at Cloud's teasing, but he only halfway meant it. He sank slowly into the chair at Zack's side, and received a doleful look from his friend.

"You're not gonna sit on the bed with us?" Zack asked around a mouthful of ice.

"It's hardly built to have two Soldiers sitting on it as it is." Sephiroth groused. "I don't want to flip you out of bed. At least not until we've got that IV unhooked."

"Suddenly, I am less disappointed in your choice of seat." Zack chuckled, bleary eyes tightening in a smile.

Sephiroth watched him steadily a moment, unsurprised when Zack turned from his scrutiny to pass Cloud back the cup and snuggle back into his oxygen mask as though it were a comfort blanket. He knew how good it could be to feel the cleansing breaths of air in an exhausted body.

"You're feeling…" Sephiroth cast about for a word. 'Alright' seemed too flippant, 'okay' too obviously incorrect. Cloud lifted an eyebrow at him from across Zack's bed, and Sephiroth jumped ahead with the next word that came to mind at the expectant look. "Adequate?"

Zack snorted, choked on a giggle, and waved a hand at Cloud and Sephiroth both when they gave a concerned jolt forward.

"Adequate." He muttered to himself, reaching out with a weak hand to pat Sephiroth on the arm. "Sure, buddy. I mean, breathing, check. Heartbeat, machine says yes. Pretty sure I'm stringing words together pretty well, I think Cloudy would have told me if I was fucking that up."

"Words seem to be working, yeah." Cloud agreed, his warm smile settling the anxiety that had risen in Sephiroth at his misstep.

"Wanna see if holding my breath will set off the nurse call alert?" Zack asked somewhat too eagerly, already out of breath just from conversing.

"Rain check." Cloud replied, shaking his head. His hand had come to rest on Zack's wrist, naturally, warmly. Sephiroth kept himself removed, too concerned about touching the wrong place, or hitting the wrong nerve. He could not touch Zack. Not and risk harming him.

"That means soon, right?" Zack's look was pure mischief, but it vanished under a wince when he shifted uneasily under the white blanket.

"Are you hurting?" Sephiroth asked quietly, concerned.

"Just sore." Zack shot him a glance that was surprisingly quelling. "And a little tired. Pretty dumb, though, being tired after sleeping… How many days was I out again, Spike?"

"Three since you've been here." Cloud replied with an ease that wasn't matched in his body posture. Sephiroth watched him tense, then force himself loose, and wondered if perhaps Cloud was putting on as much of a mask as he was for Zack's sake.

"I got that many flowers in three days?" Zack chuckled, delight crinkling his eyes, though he managed to keep from laughing loudly enough to set off another coughing fit. "Usually takes a while to even get them into the—"

He broke off abruptly, his eyes fixating on something across the room. Sephiroth followed his gaze to the pile of flowers and gifts, searching for what might have caught his eye.

"Seph." His voice had gotten abruptly weaker, and Sephiroth jerked his eyes back to him in fear. The look on his face had changed utterly, quiet shock seeming to set in where cheer had been before. "Would you bring those lilies over? The ones in the basket."

"They came in this morning." Cloud clarified, even as Sephiroth rose immediately to follow the request. "Tseng brought them by."

"Yeah." Zack muttered. "He would."

Sephiroth's fingers twitched when he touched the handle of the basket. There was something about the smell of the flowers that touched a nerve deep in the back of his mind. He didn't let himself hesitate, despite the unease. They were obviously safe. If Tseng had brought them in they would have been thoroughly vetted.

He watched in surprise when Zack retrieved the basket from his hand with both his too-thin arms, curling them around the wicker as though cradling something precious. Inside, the lilies shifted, soft and delicate, and miraculously unwilted for not having been put into a vase.

"She shouldn't have." Zack whispered, his voice rough with emotion that had been absent before.

Sephiroth watched the play of shadow and longing over Zack's face as he slowly sank back into his seat. He looked to Cloud for help and clarification and received the smallest of smiles and a quiet shake of the head from the blond.

"I'm sure she was as worried about you as the rest of us." Cloud said gently, placing a careful hand on Zack's shoulder as the First bent forward, pressing his cheek lightly against the handle of the basket.

Ah, Sephiroth thought. The flower girl. That explained how the lilies had lasted. If what Zack said was true, she actually had a patch of them growing beneath the plate. That would have made a short enough trip for them to survive it. He exhaled quietly through his nose, trying to ignore the way the scent of them set his teeth on edge.

"You guys told her?" Zack asked, lifting pained eyes to Cloud, a strangely betrayed look on his face.

"Not details." Cloud corrected quickly, lifting his hands. "When you were missing, and when you were found. Mentioned that you were hurt, but I'm sure Tseng didn't tell her anything too personal. Same as with your folks."

Zack's mouth twisted for a moment, then he settled again, the flowers in his lap, and one of his too-weak hands sliding into the basket to rest on the delicate stems of the blossoms. He gave a shiver and settled back on the hospital bed.

Sephiroth drew in a breath to speak, but their alone time with Zack was over. There was a knock on the door that heralded a smiling woman with a clipboard held over her chest.

"Commander Fair?" She asked sweetly, looking ever so slightly star-struck. "The doctor wanted me to go over some treatment options with you. Would you prefer to talk in private?"

"Pretty lady like you?" Zack grinned behind the oxygen mask. "You'd better believe it."

"Zack—" Sephiroth wanted to tell him that it was alright, that they would be there for him no matter what. But the sharp look Zack cut him before his grin reappeared silenced the words.

"Shoo," Zack's laugh was a wheeze, and if it hadn't been for the glare that came before it, Sephiroth would have bought it hook line and sinker. "You're cramping my style!"

"We'll see you soon, then." Cloud dropped a hand lightly on Zack's forearm, patting him twice. "Glad you're up, you knuckle head."

Sephiroth followed Cloud out of the room without trying to play into the game. He considered standing outside the closed door and eavesdropping, but Cloud drew him away and he didn't fight.

"He's bad." Cloud said softly once they were safely standing by the coffee machine in the waiting room.

Sephiroth took one look at the harrowed expression on Cloud's face, and poured him a cup of coffee. He sweetened it with two packets of sugar, stirring in three of the little packets of cream. Cloud gifted him with a tired smile as he accepted the coffee with both hands.

"You think it's an act, then." Sephiroth's own voice was strangely rough, and he cleared his throat after the words.

Cloud gave a weary chuckle that was far from pleasant.

"I thought at first he was for real." He took a slow sip of coffee and let out a heavy sigh. "But I was just happy to see him awake. He's… Well. He's being Zack about it."

"Good to know he's not too far gone." Sephiroth offered after a moment. "As difficult as this may make it to get through to him."

"I just don't want to let him know that it's that see through, you know?" Cloud's bright blue gaze lifted to Sephiroth.

Tears were welling in his bloodshot eyes, and Sephiroth's hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out. He didn't know where to touch, or what to say, so he forced his hand still, and waited to hear more.

"I know it's for protection." Cloud's chin tucked again, and he edged a little closer to Sephiroth. "It makes him feel safe to hide behind that smile, and I don't want to take that safety away."

"You are a good friend." Sephiroth whispered, lifting has hand slowly and clasping it lightly on Cloud's bicep. "And I think you are right to let him hide, at least for now. If what I think is of importance."

"It is." Cloud muttered, sliding closer just to knock against Sephiroth with his shoulder.

Sephiroth let a breath escape him at the touch, and tucked his chin. He didn't quite curl around Cloud like he wanted to, but he stayed still, standing before him and letting Cloud press as close as he liked.

For a moment, he was reminded of a mission they'd been sent on together. It had been raining, the wind blowing so hard that the rain had been nearly horizontal. He'd stood against it calmly, letting Cloud hide from the rain in his wake for a little while, the infantryman chuckling about Sephiroth granting him shelter from the storm.

Sephiroth could only hope that Cloud felt sheltered from this storm as well, even if only for a while.

For a moment, it was still. The smell of coffee was strong enough that Sephiroth it nearly covered the scent of sickness and sterility. Cloud needed a shower, but Sephiroth was grateful for it, in a way. It gave him one more layer of scent to hide from the too-familiar medical smells. He wondered if it was really Cloud he was sheltering, or if it was the other way around. He wondered if it mattered.

"What if he doesn't let us help?" Cloud asked into the silence a long while later.

Sephiroth lifted his eyes from the mop of blond hair close to his chest, gazing at the wall across from them for a moment. He made a low sound, acknowledging Cloud's question without replying yet, the fingers of his free hand twitching with impotence.

"Then we must respect his wishes." Sephiroth replied at last. "Though I hope that will not be the case."

Cloud pressed a little closer, silent for a moment before he took a slow breath.

"Sephiroth." His voice was low and intimate, a fragile note of concern carrying through it. "You're shaking."

Sephiroth made a conscious effort to still himself, but the finite tremble of his muscles continued. There was no removing the tension without dissociating, and he dared not do that yet.

"I do not have a good track record with helping my friends." He barely let the words escape him in a breath. If Cloud's enhancements hadn't started to take hold, the young man never would have heard him. As it was those luminous eyes lifted to gaze up at Sephiroth with shocked worry. Sephiroth jerked his head up to look away from the expression.

Cloud leaned more heavily against him, and the pressure was strangely comforting. Sephiroth took a slow breath and allowed himself that comfort, at least for a moment.

"It's not the same." Cloud whispered, pressing his cheek to Sephiroth's bared chest. "He's not going to leave, Sephiroth."

"I'm sorry." His voice came out strained, and he cleared his throat softly, feeling his brows lower with tension and restraining the expression. "I'm sorry." He repeated, his voice smoother. "I am alright, Cloud."

"You don't have to be." Cloud whispered. "I know you want to be for him, and for me, but it's okay for this to hurt you too. I'd be worried if it didn't affect you."

"I usually have better control than this." Sephiroth sighed. "Perhaps I should call in Tseng's offer to have a Turk stay with Zackary tonight. I'm…" He struggled to voice the admission, before finally finishing. "Tired."

"Me too." Cloud replied, his voice tense. "It's been a while since we had a good night's sleep, huh."

"About three weeks." Sephiroth agreed dryly.

"Want some of my coffee?" Cloud offered with a wry twist to his lips.

"I'd prefer an assassination attempt." Sephiroth sighed. "Those always wake me right up."

"You always say that." Cloud chuckled. "And I still haven't seen one assassination attempt to prove it."

"I need to find more daring political opponents." Sephiroth agreed with a huff.

Cloud's laughter was muffled in his coffee cup, but Sephiroth could feel him smiling, and the look the Soldier sent him was warm and affectionate. For a moment, Sephiroth allowed himself to think that everything would be okay.

Zack was asleep again by the time they were allowed back into the room. The basket of lilies was resting by his bedside, and Sephiroth gave a low hum of thought, looking at them.

"We should fetch them some water." He muttered after a moment. "They seem particularly important to him."

"I don't think I own any vases." Cloud replied with a helpless shrug. "We could switch them out with the roses. Those don't even have a proper name on them anymore."

Sephiroth glanced at the roses and gave a quiet scoff, his eyes focusing on the indentations under Reno's name, reading the dedication the Turk had removed neatly.

"They're from 'Janice.'" He reported. "I don't know who Janice is."

"Zack probably doesn't either." Cloud commented, fetching the flowers. "He'd probably like her if he met her again, though. He tends not to flirt or chat unless he means it. He just means it a lot more than most of us."

"Do you still owe him that date?" Sephiroth asked, glancing over at Cloud, just to watch him blush at the reminder.

"It wasn't a date." Cloud muttered. "But yes. I've been saving it for a special occasion, you know? Not like we haven't gone out to dinners together and stuff, but…"

Sephiroth phased out for a moment, then shook his head briskly, fighting back the rushing in his ears. His eyes were having some trouble focusing, and he caught a deeper breath, forcing them to sharpen, gazing intently at the drip of the IV bag.

"—iroth?" Cloud's voice filtered back into his awareness, and Sephiroth turned his disobedient eyes to his lover. Cloud's look of concern struck straight to the heart of him.

"Go home." Cloud murmured after a moment. "You've been pulling double duty too long."

"I don't want to leave." Sephiroth said bleakly. "He just woke up."

"And he'll wake up again." Cloud assured him in a quiet voice. "I'll call Reno or Cissnei in to keep an eye on him tonight. Then I'll come meet you, okay? You need to sleep."

"I've slept less." Sephiroth said with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Don't do that." Cloud whispered, crossing the last of the distance between them, setting the flowers down to take one of Sephiroth's hands in his fingers. "It's not about how much you can stand. I know you want to be here for him, but you have to take care of yourself too. You're already having issues with disassociation."

"You noticed." Sephiroth's voice came out flat and empty.

"I always try to notice when something's hurting you." Cloud squeezed his hand gently. "I know this is hard on you. And I know I haven't been helping."

"You don't need to look after me." Sephiroth glowered at the words and Cloud shot him a brief glare.

"Don't you get defensive at me." He scolded mildly. "There's nothing wrong with me wanting to help and protect you."

"I am not a child."

"You are exhausted, though." Cloud's free hand lifted to press against his chest. "Or you wouldn't be growling at me at all."

Sephiroth averted his eyes, then shook his head briskly. "You're not much better." He muttered. "And you have less mako to offset the exhaustion."

"I know." Cloud sighed after a moment. "And I promise I'll come join you and sleep. Just… Please, Seph. I'm worried. I have time off thanks to you, but you might have to go on a mission any day, and we're still not sure if Reno and Rude got all of the people who took him, or who they were working for, and if you get sent away and you don't come back—"

"No one is going to capture me." Sephiroth said softly.

"Zack would have said the same thing three weeks ago." Cloud's gaze was firm as he stared up at Sephiroth. "I know you're worried. But please. Do this for me. I want to know that you're safe."

Sephiroth looked to their sleeping friend. His hands were both palm up now, resting on top of the covers. There were shining scars on his wrists from how they'd bound him. The oxygen mask misted rhythmically with his breaths.

"Alright." He murmured at last. "Since you are the one who is asking."

"Thank you." Cloud sighed, carefully lifting the roses free of the vase.

Sephiroth moved on auto pilot, lifting the lilies and sliding them into the water. They made his hands tingle. He wondered if he was allergic to that type of flower. He'd never had the chance to find out before.

"Did you notice anything new for the notebook?" Cloud asked, drawing Sephiroth's attention from the itching in his palms. "While we're both here?"

"Jaundice." Sephiroth replied, idly wiping his palms off on the leather of his jacket. "I wasn't sure before because his skin coloration is already off. But the whites of his eyes are definitely yellow."

"That's a problem with his liver?" Cloud asked, looking anxious.

"Probably it is a function of the dehydration and starvation, and will fade quickly." Sephiroth muttered, shaking his head a little. "Just something to keep an eye on."

"Right." Cloud muttered.

"And you?" Sephiroth asked, taking a deep breath, fighting to keep himself awake. Now that he'd agreed to sleep, he found that his body craved it.

"I think he's angry." Cloud murmured after a moment. "I'm sorry I didn't notice anything physical, but under the laughing I kept catching these glares from him. I think he's not, um…" He trailed off, his eyes flickering downwards and darkening. "'Not happy' sounds like stating the obvious."

"If it helps, I do not think it is us he is angry with." Sephiroth murmured, even as his mind flicked through the too-brief conversation with their friend. "Displaced anger and bitterness are common problems in those recovering from such ill treatment."

"Thanks." Cloud sighed with a smile, settling the dripping roses in the basket and placing them gently aside with the other flowers. "That does help."

Sephiroth stared down at his face a moment before he let out a breath, bending slowly to catch Cloud in the softest of kisses.

"You'll come home tonight?" He asked, glad that Cloud's eyes stayed closed for a moment after their kiss, because as wistful as his voice came out, he must have been giving him a strange look.

"Cross my heart." Cloud murmured.

Sephiroth nodded slowly, turning his gaze to Zack. He didn't say anything to the unconscious man—he found the idea of speaking to someone who wasn't listening uncomfortable at best—but he watched him for a moment, observing the rise and fall of his chest. Then he gave a slow nod, stroked a hand over Cloud's shoulder briefly and walked out of the room.

He all but sleepwalked back to his apartment, and fell into bed without grace, struggling against his boots as though he were still a new Soldier fighting with the company's fashion sense. By the time he was undressed and under the covers, he could feel a headache pounding inside his skull, finally able to be recognized now that he was taking a moment free of all his masks.

Despite his exhaustion and stress and need, he couldn't sleep. He kept running through what he'd seen of Zack—what Reno had told them—what he knew of torture from his own experience.

He wished he knew less, and yet he wished he could know everything at the same time. Knowledge was a weapon, and he would have been much happier armed.

As it was, by the time Cloud came home Sephiroth was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, unable to rest and too frustrated by his failure to stay in bed a moment longer. Hestia was playing on the table. The mouse was ducked under the curled fingers of Sephiroth's right hand, peeking her head out now and then.

Sometimes she would dart through his fingers to sprint around the table before returning to her hiding place, as though trying to coerce Sephiroth into playing. Sephiroth found little solace in her usually amiable and amusing companionship. He did not protest when Cloud gently scooped up the blue-eyed mouse and settled her back in her cage. He watched through dull eyes as Cloud treated her to a couple of the almonds they kept as treats for her.

When the blond took his arm in hand afterwards and walked with him back to the bedroom, Sephiroth followed silently. They curled into bed together silently. He held Cloud close, craving the feel of his breathing against his chest.

When the smaller man couldn't calm his shaking, Sephiroth wiped the tears off his cheeks as Cloud bit his lip and cried silently. Eventually, long after Cloud had fallen into exhausted rest, Sephiroth managed to follow him into sleep. He was too tired even to dream.


End file.
